


Deductions

by Squarepeg72



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Deductions, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squarepeg72/pseuds/Squarepeg72
Summary: How can the world’s greatest detective be so blind?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79
Collections: Tropes & Fandoms 2020





	Deductions

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Square 13 in Melting Pot's Trope & Fandoms 2020  
> Trope: Pregnancy/Baby
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/148170750@N07/49779436601/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

Molly looked at the small, white stick she was holding in her hand. “Well, I guess that answers that question. I wonder how long it will be before he figures it out.”

Molly set the small stick on the vanity and turned to leave the loo. “I am not going to worry about it today. No work means that I can sleep.”

“For a man who notices everything, he is so dense,” Molly muttered as she walked back to their bedroom. “I turn greener than grass and can’t keep anything down until after lunch, and he says nothing.”

Molly continued to mutter as she climbed back in bed. “I’m just going back to bed. It is Saturday and he can get his own tea. Wouldn't notice if his nose fell off…”

“Molly, have you seen my hat? I have to meet John,” Sherlock’s voice drifted into the bedroom, interrupting her thoughts. “He seems to think that this case might need me to go somewhere to see something.”

“On the table by the lower door.” Molly pulled to covers over her head as she answered. “Just let me sleep.”

“No plans for the day. Don’t you have to do something for your work today?” Sherlock looked puzzled as he watched Molly snuggle deeper into the bed. “What is going on with you? Laying about in bed, not working on Saturday? Are you ill or something?”

“You’re the detective, Sherlock.” Molly growled as she watched his brow furrow. “Go crawl in that Mind Palace of yours and look at the clues. I’m tired and I don’t feel well, so I am going back to sleep.”

“Well, all right.” Sherlock turned to leave their bedroom. “Just one question. Dinner with John and Mary tonight?”

“If I feel up to it.” Molly sighed. “Just go do what you need to…”

* * *

“Would you stop that?” John watched Sherlock pace the small space between his sofa and the fireplace. “I know you are not pacing about this case. You solved it yesterday. I saw it.”

“Something is going on with her,” Sherlock mumbled as he continued to pace. “She has been more moody than normal, sick every morning but fine by lunch, tired…”

“Really, Sherlock.” John sighed as he put the pieces together. “This is not a mystery that is hard to figure out. Molly is…”

“Getting ready to leave me.” Sherlock stopped pacing and placed his hand on top of the mantle. “There are only a few possibilities. Stress, difficult decisions.”

“Living with a fool.” John shook his head. “I think you need to look at the clues again, Sherlock. Go home and talk to your wife. Talking to me is not going to solve this mystery.”

“Talking to you never gets me anywhere,” Sherlock mumbled as he headed for the door. “Just gives me more questions to think about.”

* * *

“Molly,” Sherlock’s voice carried through the flat. “No dinner with John and Mary tonight. Where are you?”

“In here, love,” Molly called back to Sherlock from the sitting room. “Tea is on the table. Wash up and come join me.”

Sherlock placed his coat on the hook by the door and headed for the loo. “Molly, are you sure you are alright? You still don’t sound right.”

“We’ll talk when you get in here.” Molly sighed as she uncurled herself from her chair. “I do not have the energy to yell through this flat at you.”

Sherlock continued to mumble as he entered the loo. “I will never understand when you are in a mood.”

“I heard that Sherlock.” Molly’s voice seemed sharp to his ears. “If you would just finish putting the pieces together, Daddy, I would be much happier.”

“What the devil are you talking about, putting the pieces together. I always put the pieces to…”

Sherlock lost his voice when he saw the small, white stick sitting on the vanity. “Molly …”


End file.
